


Old Friends

by markipwiwer



Category: Video Blogging RPF, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: M/M, how do I even tag this, post-Damien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markipwiwer/pseuds/markipwiwer
Summary: Damien and “Wilford” meet after the events of ‘Damien’ and talk about their goals and their future.AKA my interpretation of the bridge between Damien and Markiplier TV.





	Old Friends

It was snowing. Wilford was certainly not in appropriate attire for the winter, but luckily he got the feeling he wasn’t too far out from civilisation. A couple of miles walking, nothing too terrible.

His legs were pretty sore already though. He’d been partying, dancing for hours now, and he had thought he’d shacked up with someone, but he must have been mistaken. He’d definitely heard screaming in the distance, and water running, but he wasn’t so curious about it that he went looking for the source. Going towards screaming typically landed him in trouble.

Until he came across a figure, standing in what was once a doorway of a cabin. The figure looked about his height, and rather disheveled, and turned around defensively when it heard Wilfords feet crunching in the wet snow.

“Uh, hello there! You alright out here?”

Wilfords voice projected well even with the distance between them, and with his accent, it wasn’t hard to tell who this was.

“Uh. Oh. Hi, Wil.”

At first, Wilford tilted his head in a bit of confusion, it was honestly difficult to tell, what with the figure looking so rugged. But the eyes... it clicked.

“Oh, Damien! How wonderful to see you, I’ve been looking all over for you!”

Damien looked positively awkward standing there, rugged up and scraggly, a stark contrast to the last time William had laid eyes on him. But nonetheless, there he was.

Wilford began to approach with arms stretched open, ready for a big hug, and Damien just stood and tolerated it. Although human contact was... nicer than he’d expected, Wil was clearly also a drastically different person now, and Damien needed to be cautious.

“Care to come have a drink with me? Get you out of the snow, at least?”

Wilfords offer was difficult to turn down, though he mustn’t have been trapped in the bubble any more if he could leave the forest that easily.

-

Damien found, when Wilford transported him for the first time, that Winter had long since passed in the real world, and whatever year it was, Spring was well underway.

The pair sat together in the back of a club, in a booth of a private room. At first, Damien was utterly bedazzled by the beauty of the new world, letting his mind wander a little about what exactly he’d missed out on.

Wil had been going on about something or rather, a gunshot wound here and time skipping there, and it was almost threatening to overload Damien’s mind - a ringing in his ears beginning to taunt him as well - when his sisters name was uttered.

“Say, you haven’t seen Celine around anywhere, have you?”

Damien blinked. He looked inward, tried to listen, but it was okay. She needed her rest anyway.

“She’s sleeping.”

That wasn’t a lie. Not technically.

“Oh, good! Not to be rude or anything of the sort, but if I can avoid her I’d really rather do so...”

Damien has half a mind to ask him what exactly it was that he’d done that Celine might be so upset with him about, but for the sake of sanity, he kept his mouth shut.

“You know, old friend, I’m so glad I found you! I’ve been thinking recently and Ive got a great new idea! I really think you’d be fantastic for the job, just a real treasure!”

Damien folded his hands together, donning his old poker face from council meetings as Mayor.

“Oh?”

Wilford licked his lips excitedly.

“We should make a TV show!”

Well, that came from absolutely fucking nowhere.

“Wil, why on Earth would that be a good idea? We’re both known, and likely wanted men. You’d be out for murder, I disappeared at the start of my term.”

Wilford leaned in across the table.

“Well, you see, that’s why I’ve been using fake names for years.”

Wil tapped his nose and gave a wink, a real juicy one too, on that made Damien scowl and roll his eyes.

“No. I have other priorities now.”

Wil scoffed.

“Oh please, what could you possibly have going on?”

This seemed to set Damien off just a tad.

“Christ, Wil, what do you think? I don’t even know what year it is! I clearly have catching up to do, and need I remind you, Mr. I-didn’t-kill-anybody, that Mark is still alive just like us, and is out there! I need to find him, I need to...”

That made Wil pause. Damien could see the cogs turning in his old friends head as he pondered.

“Well then, wouldn’t a show be the perfect opportunity? After all, he was so popular back in the day, why not beat him at his own game? Things have changed, Dames. You don’t hear his name spoken much anymore. My name, on the other hand, well... let’s just say I’ve worked a room here and there.”

Damien cocked an eyebrow.

“What are you going by these days?”

Wil chuckled.

“Warfstache. Wilford Warfstache.”

Damien rolled his eyes.

“That’s a ridiculous name.”

Wilford smirked.

“Perhaps. But so was Markiplier. It catches people’s attention. It’s difficult to miss. Pretty good for building a reputation, if you ask me. How did you find out he was alive, anyway?”

Damien sighed.

“He came to me. Sort of.”

Damien retold the story as best he could without mentioning Celine too much, about his makeup, about the evil entity behind it all.

“Well, well. Seems like some dark forces are afoot, eh? He wants you to be the villain, the dark side... Heh. Dark. Mark. That rhymes.”

There was a beat, and then Wilford said it.

“Darkiplier. It’d certainly make people’s ears prick up, something they’re a little familiar with but not enough to catch too much attention. And with how we look so similar, I’m sure with enough social status you could even impersonate him, mess with his livelihood a little. Make people rethink what they thought they knew about the great Markiplier. Then it’ll be your name spoken in whispers with that same awe.”

Well, Wilford Warfstache certainly had a way with words. And he was right, taking Marks legacy away from him was a lovely little step towards tearing him down. And Wilford was clearly more knowledgeable about the current day than he was, perhaps it was wise to... stick around.

“Alright. Fine. But I run the books. You’re terrible with money.”

Wilford clapped his hands together.

“Sounds good to me, Darkling!”

Dark scoffed at the already assigned nickname, but he already felt himself slipping into something someone might call Dark.

“Now then, let’s get you looking business ready. How about a suit and a haircut first, eh?”

Dark felt at his face. It had been a while since he was clean shaven. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I might end up adding another chapter to this if it’s requested. Message me on tumblr at markipwiwer.tumblr.com!


End file.
